


birch and pine trees, georgia o'keeffe

by s0fthope



Series: love in the time of 2039 [3]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Amanda (Detroit: Become Human) Being an Asshole, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blood and Injury, Canon-Typical Violence, Deviant Upgraded Connor | RK900, Elijah Kamski & Gavin Reed are Siblings, Emotions, Gen, Injury Recovery, M/M, Mental Instability, Public Display of Affection, but i also believe the amount is within canon expectations, i say major violence because it's rather heavy, science things, sorry kids
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-10
Updated: 2019-02-10
Packaged: 2019-10-14 09:36:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,185
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17506118
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/s0fthope/pseuds/s0fthope
Summary: after over a year, in a regular apartment, in a regular routine, nine finally begins to feel normal. this is good. this is fine. work is good. he feels fine. but, there's something else, an itch he can't seem to scratch, that's been bothering him. a quick look into system logs would probably solve the problem, right?





	birch and pine trees, georgia o'keeffe

**Author's Note:**

> gosh i think this was the first g9 fic i ever wrote--maybe about four or five months ago? it's hard to remember. but it takes place as the third ish part of this series, one that i've really been enjoying writing. i hope you also enjoy!

Nine switched on the coffee maker. He knew Gavin well enough to understand the relative coffee addiction, and knew him well enough to know he would never settle for fancy fruit juices and espresso shots in replacement for a morning cup of coffee. He reached back into the cabinet, taking down a plain white mug--there were ringed stains still left inside and the handle wobbled, but Nine set it down beside the machine that began to bubble and boil. 

The microwave clock changed from 6:29 to 6:30, the alarm chimed from the other room, and Nine heard Gavin  grumbling to himself. Nine almost smiled to himself, despite how strange he was feeling. It was uncharacteristic of him to do either: act strange or smile, but there was an undismissable twinge, tremor, error, he couldn’t place. He fixed the folded up corner of the sweatshirt he was wearing. The same sweatshirt and lounge pants he’d worn the previous night, the ones that Connor had gotten him.

He focused on the tops of buildings outside, through the window opposite of the kitchen. The first order of business after he and Gavin had celebrated half a year together was to move Nine out from the cubicle he lived in and into Gavin’s apartment--the move took a day and a half. Despite that, he still found himself lost in the view. He gazed until the feeling became obsolete. 

Nine heard Gavin shuffle into the kitchen, pulling on a high collared shirt. He had tossed his overshirt onto the chair aligned with the countertop and moved around Nine, stretching as he did. Nine poured out a cup of coffee.

“Good morning, Gavin.”

Gavin mumbled tiredly in response. He turned from the fridge, holding a half opened banana in one hand and reached out to take the coffee from Nine. Gavin shut the fridge door with his socked foot. He stood still for a moment to take a sip of coffee and it was just long enough for Nine to plant a kiss on the top of his head.

“What are you on about, Nines?”

“Saying good morning, again.”

He took another sip.

“Good morning to you, too.” 

Gavin reached over to set the cup on the counter, along with his banana. He nudged Nine with his elbow before moving around the counter to pick up his shirt. 

“You should start getting ready, we’re cutting close on time.”

Nine leaned against the counter top, weight on his forearms, linked his fingers together.

“I am staying home today. Something isn’t running quite right. As you put it “I’m a bit under the weather”. He gave a nonchalant wave of his hand, something he had picked up from one of the shows Gavin had been watching

Gavin furrowed his eyebrows. His voice almost twinged with concern.

“Should I stay home?”

Another wave.

“No, it shouldn’t be anything at all.” He offered Gavin a smile. “Nothing I cannot fix on my own.”

Gavin gave him a wary look but finished pulling the over shirt over his head. Nine watched him, still smiling despite himself. It wasn’t often he saw him in uniform and it was interesting--no,  _ nice _ \--to see him cleaned up. Gavin sat to finish the rest of his coffee, scarfing up the rest of his breakfast before returning to the mug. He reached across the counter absently, still engrossed in his coffee, feeling for something. Out of amusement, Nine took hold of his outstretched hand. Gavin clumsily tangled their fingers together and finished the last dregs of his cheap dark roast. 

“Find what you were looking for, Detective?” Nine mused. Gavin scoffed, but brought their clasped hands up to chastely kiss the back of Nine’s hand. Then he let go.

“I’ve got to go before I miss the tram.” He moved to the entryway, around the corner from the kitchenette, where his shoes were tucked under the coat rack. He laced them haphazardly, wobbling to maintain his balance. The tone of his voice, Nine noticed, was apologetic and Nine shook his head.

“It’s alright, Gavin, I will let you know if anything occurs.”

Gavin finished lacing his shoes and threw his coat over one shoulder. He turned to face the door, then back to Nine.

“If anything happens, you call me, alright Nines?”

“There’s nothing to worry about.”

Gavin pulled open the door.

“Promise?”

Nine nodded firmly. “I promise.”

Satisfied with his answer, Gavin pushed out the door, letting it close on its own behind him. Nine hoped he hadn’t forgotten anything, but there was little doubt that he had.

Nine thought to himself about where he could be undisturbed for enough time. He enjoyed the feline presence on most cases, but considering the serious nature of the debugging, it would have to be in silence. Darling, the large fluffy tabby, Fiji, a thin, deaf, marbled serval, Toast, pure black--Nine’s favorite, and Q, a too fluffy maine coon, were much too noisy. He wandered into the room he shared with Gavin, taking a moment to collect the clothes off the floor, straighten the bed, and coddle a particularly sentimental tabby before setting her outside. The room was painted the same shade as the rest of the apartment, with the exception of the carpeting, a off-tan, and the white walls bounced the light off of it cleanly. Every decorative element in the apartment was chosen by Connor, having some understanding of design, foliage decorating his own corner of Hank’s apartment. Nine enjoyed it, the decor making it feel more of a home, more his.

He drew closed the blackout blinds over the tall windows and rest his hands on his hips. Now cooler, and darker, the room was to his liking enough so that he took his place on the leftmost side of the bed and lay still. 

The dark space usually behind his eyes was met with the faded image of a botanical garden. Not one he was used to, Nine noted, but the Butchart Botanical Gardens. He swept his gaze across a collection of sunset colored roses as the garden’s name came to him. Red roses, yellow, orange, standing out from where he stood at the Piazza. Beyond that, a tract of ever-tall willows and maidenhair and bay laurel. Each step he took was guided by an intense sensation to find his way into the middle, curling around pools of daffodils and lillies. 

_ If only it were real. _ He could imagine the children swimming around his legs, people basking in the cold air, breathing, living, people, not just himself.

For a moment, as he created the edge of the Sunken Gardens, he noticed a rather slim patch of tulips scattered around the benches, tucked within the bed of newly budding tiger lillies. Though the faded colors of the rest of the Sunken Garden had finally begun to settle into vibrancy, it was the yellow tulips specifically that had come to him first. 

_ I can’t see why anyone wouldn’t like flowers for a wedding--but roses are everyone’s go to, why not a tulip or something? _

Neither Nine nor Gavin would ever admit to watching one too many wedding planner television shows, but he supposed the imprint of the flower had stayed in his memory long enough to surface here. He plucked a yellow tulip from the patch and pushed forward--or rather pulled, a desire to walk the Sunken Garden filling his mind. 

He tucked the tulip into the back pocket of his trousers, turning his attention back to the expanse of ornamental bushes and tapestries of color. He was impressed, but less awed than he would be seeing the garden in waking life. This was only an imprint, a snapshot of what it could look like, modeled from maps and pictures and slideshows all pieced together for him. He knew where every turn would lead him, how every new scene unfolded.

“Good afternoon, RK900.”

He turned toward the sound of the voice, looking up toward the observation hill. 

“Amanda.”

She sat under a parasol, face contorted into a mask of indifference. The small row of benches where she was seated framed either side of the hill, as the steps in front of him lead up to the observation deck. Amanda motioned to the spot beside her and he took it with little hesitation. Amanda’s presence, be it a manifestation of herself or a metaphor of some strange nature, had brought him here, so it was only right of him to see what it truly was. 

“I have not seen you in quite a while, Connor,” she said solemnly, not looking at him. He observed the side of her face, curious. “Or is it Nine, now?”

“You’ve been shut down, your code doesn’t exist anymore,” Nine spoke shortly. He folded his hands in his lap and his leg over one knee. 

“An interesting perspective,” Amanda nodded slowly. “especially for you.”

“You seem surprised that I deviated.”

“Not necessarily.”

Amanda stood, both hands now curled around the handle of her parasol. She began up the steps to the observatory and Nine felt inclined to follow. He trailed a handful of steps behind her, blocking the sun with one hand, listening to her as she spoke over her shoulder.

“Just because you are better than RK800 doesn’t mean that you are any less gullible, shiny, and easy to persuade.”

“Is that so?” he replied. He felt a cold sensation wash over him, too quick to understand, but the after effect lingered just long enough. The sensation of his theoretical mind separating from his physical body, just for an instant. He frowned.

“Yes,” She glanced back at him momentarily. “Don’t frown, it’s unbecoming.”

As they reached the top of the short hill, the Butchart gardens spread across their field of view, the only expanse that Nine could see, forever onward to a blurred, foggy end. He looked across the lawn, hand now resting at his side, sun beaming above him now, instead of ahead. He heard Amanda audible sigh.

“Why are you here, Amanda?” Nine asked, turning himself toward her. She shook her head.

“Not one for socializing, are you?”

“With you? Unlikely.”

She finally took the courtesy of looking him in the face.

“Why is that?”

“You introduced me with one function: replacement. I had no other qualities to you. I have a reason to have a vendetta.”

“You’re an android, dear. You don’t have qualities.” She turned away from him again, looking out onto the garden. A breeze turned the parasol lazily on her shoulder.

“I’m here because I wanted to see you again. It had been so long. I had to tell you something.”

“Of course,” Nine replied stiffly.

“You’ll never love him.”

“Pardon me?” 

Amanda turned, eyes boring into his. 

“You don’t know how to love, or be happy. You made the mistake of deviating to unlock some sort of potential and yet it’s failed you. You still work for humans. You make his coffee, you put him to bed. RK800 knew how to do a job. He knew how to do  _ his  _ job.”

“I do my job,” Nine spat.

“Then do it better.”

“You don’t know a single thing about me.”

“Oh,” Amanda put a hand on his shoulder. Nine barely stopped himself from visibly flinching, moving it away. “But I was with you. Those few, solemn weeks before you finally decided to ‘do the right thing’ for yourself.”

“And?”

“And it was easy to see you were both worthless,” She shook her head. “Why did I even bother to hold onto you? You could come back, you know, it would be so easy for you.”

“What for? You don’t control anything!” His face was already molded into an ugly grimace, every wave of anger making his skin hot.

“Don’t you want people to stop lying to you?”

“You’re just digging into my files, you’re a corruption, you’re not going to make it. You don’t matter!” Nine shoved at Amanda, pushing her to the ground. The impact winded her, but she smiled, her parasol carried away by the wind.

“Then neither do you.”

“Can you just get out!” Nine snapped. He lifted her torso, slamming her back to the ground. “Get out, get out!” He repeated the mantra, over and over, hands turning blue, turning red, turning, until everything was blurry and messy and cold.

 

Gavin opened the door to his apartment, breath coming partly short from the stairs, and body heavy. The door thudded shut behind him and one particular tabby circled his feet in figure eights. He sat next to the doorway and she climbed onto his lap. He smiled and kissed the space between her ears, trying to balance her and pull off his boots, which he finally did as she bounded off his lap and sat next to him. He shrugged off his jacket, pulled off the top shirt of his uniform--the early february air had left a chill down his spine. Letting out a long sigh through his nose, he turned to the cat.

“You seen Nines, Darling?”

She murred quietly, blinked, and paced a short bit down across the room. Gavin heard a dull thump, just loud enough to barely catch it. He stood, stretching out his back. 

“Guess he went to take a nap. He sounds up now.”

He followed Darling over to the door. The thump came again, this time more forcefully, and once again. Gavin frowned, pushing on the door until it came unstuck and opened. 

“Hey, Nines, I’m home.” he called. 

Thump. 

“Nines?” 

Thump.

Gazing across the room, he saw the outline of Nine in the dark, shuffling around on the far side of the room. Gavin moved into the room, feeling for the lightswitch. He switched it on.

Nine was stuck against the wall, a spatter of blue blood silhouetting his head. He slammed his head against the plaster, blood stuck to his hair, across the back of his sweatshirt.

“Fuck--Nines!”

Gavin lurched forward stumbling over his own feet as a wave of adrenaline ran through him. He grabbed Nine around the torso, tugging mercilessly. Nine pulled back, head smashing into the wall, over and over and over. 

“Fucking,  _ stop _ ! Stop it!” Gavin twisted himself around, one arm around Nine’s waist and the other across his chest. He fell slack, then pulled, almost popping his shoulder out in the process, peeling him from the wall. They fell back in a pile, Nine squirming in Gavin’s lap. He began to beat at his head with both hands, palms flat against his forehead. 

“Nines, what the hell! Stop! You’re killing yourself!”

Nine cried out in pain, hands pale white, skin against the right side of his face blotchy with olive skin and brilliant silver. Blue dripped across the side of his face and hands. He whined, voice hoarse, but made no other response. His body went heavy and slumped.

Gavin wrestled Nine’s arms against his sides, cradled him in his arms. His breath came roughly, face pressed against Nine’s neck. Blue blood stuck to his cheek.

“Fucking hell, RK.” he murmured.

“Gavin?” Nine’s voice came soft, almost far away sounding. Gavin scrambled back, dragging Nine to rest against the bed frame. Nine winced, eyes searching blankly across the room in short, jerking movements. Gavin knelt in front of him, trying to hold the shortness of his breath, and placed his hand against Nine’s knee. Nine jumped, eyes flicking up and over, back and forth.

“Gavin?” He said again, voice wobbly. 

Gavin shushed him, tutting quietly. “Hey, I’m here, I’m still here with you.”

“Gavin, I can’t see. Oh, god, I can’t see anything!”

He grappled for some part of Gavin that would give him solace and Gavin took his wrists, placing Nine’s hands against his upper arms. Nine curled his fingers into the fabric, expression softening, mouth moving in words Gavin couldn’t understand. Gavin surveyed his face, stomach churning.

The right side of his face was almost indistinguishable from the left. It was smothered in blue, the left eye had gone completely dark, a loose whirring sound emitting from the whole side. Nine’s hairline had fallen away, as if a chunk of his dark hair had been shaved off. The skin was shiny and cold and without color, the circuit patterns underneath shining through, blue and silver wires in odd clumps. There was a piece that hung almost too loose across his forehead, threatening to expose the dark wires underneath. The bleeding had begun to patch over, but still dripped down Nine’s chin from his mouth and nose, onto his shirt. His mouth hung slightly open--in a different situation, Gavin would be raring for something of the sort--but he could tell that his jaw had been bluntly pushed out of place, weighing down his face. Gavin knew it would be worse to punch it back in, rather than let it stay.

“Hey, do you feel anything? Are you hurting?”

“No, no...no, I’m...” Nine seemed to search for words hopelessly. He twitched, hands coming up to pick at his face, letting out another stream of blood. He scratched at his cheeks, blue on his hands smearing onto his face.

“No, Nines, stop.” Gavin pulled his hands away, pressing them against his own face. “Please, it’s okay.”

“Something’s wrong with my head. Something’s wrong.” Nine struggled against Gavin, trying to pull his hands away. But Gavin pushed his face against his hands, a shaking sigh coming from him. 

“It’s okay, we’re gonna help you, Nines, it’s okay.”

Nine finally let his arms relax, taunt arms falling slightly, hands fitting the lines of Gavin’s face.

“Can I clean you up?” Gavin stood, hands holding Nine’s. The skin up to the middle of his forearm was silvery grey, matching the side of his face. 

“What do I look like?” he asked innocently--Gavin almost buckled, knees giving out.

“You’re covered in blood.” Gavin spoke in a whisper. 

Nine’s chest sunk in, almost miming heaving, eyes dark and wide. Gavin began to calm him before his hands met his face again, sinking down next to him. 

“Here, just follow me, it’s okay.” He looped his arm around Nine’s waist, Nine’s arm over his shoulders, pulling him up in a struggling, swift movement. 

Nine stumbled with him, leaning heavy on him. Gavin nudged open the bathroom door with his foot, fumbling for the light. The brilliance shocked him for a moment, but he moved, Nine clinging to him weakly, to take a towel from the stack on the counter and drench it. 

He began to lower himself down and Nine gasped, grabbing him. 

“We’re just sitting down, down on the floor, okay. Down on the floor.”

“Okay, okay.”

Nine came down onto the floor in more of a fall than a sit, pooling against Gavin’s shoulder. His head slumped back on the wall, arms in his lap. Gavin pushed himself up, sitting opposite, but still against Nine’s legs and hip. Nine reached over and Gavin moved his hand to rest it against his knee. 

Taking the damp towel, Gavin began to wipe away the blood across Nine’s cheeks, the grey fabric staining blue. Brushed it across his nose, temple, the crown of his head, his chin. He moved Nine’s face up and over with his free hand and as he did, he noticed that his eyes had fallen shut. Something about the solomness of his face, paired with the yellowing of his LED, brought a stillness over Gavin. He touched the unstained side of Nine’s face with gentle movements, brushing his thumb over the high of his cheek. 

“You’re alright. You’ll be alright.”

“Gavin?” 

Nine’s eyes didn’t open, but Gavin almost felt a lean into his palm. He brought his hand down to hold his jaw, still open slightly. He squinted his eyes shut, a burning sensation rising in the back of his through.

“Yeah, Nine?”

“I think I feel scared.”

Gavin choked out his next breath, inhale catching and sounding sharp. He leaned slightly in, knees knocking together, Nine’s hand shifting up and against his hip. He kissed his forehead just barely, a quick touch of his lips against cool skin. Plastic. Whichever.

“I don’t know what happened.”

“It’s gonna be okay, it’ll be okay. I promise.”

“I don’t know what I did.”

“It’s okay. I love you, it’s okay.”

Gavin’s voice broke as he finished speaking, eyes sore and throat raw.

He should’ve kissed him before he left for work.

He should’ve stayed.

Should’ve kissed him, stayed, kissed him, called him, stayed.

“Everything feels muted.” Nine said softly. His hand pressed a little firmer on Gavin’s hip--he didn’t mind. It grounded Nine. He wanted to feel something, any sensation.

“Can I kiss you?” Gavin paused, uneasy. He wasn’t sure the words actually came out of his throat. He didn’t know what nervousness had overcome him--was he afraid to hurt Nine anymore that he already was? 

“Yes, please?” Nine spoke finally. His other hand, blue with dried blood, rested on the outside of Gavin’s thigh.

“I just don’t wanna hurt you.”

“Just kiss me.”

Gavin leaned forward, the gentle lock of their lips closing the space between them. Gavin curled one hand behind Nine’s head, the other still cradling his jaw, holding him. He felt Nine relax under him, becoming pliable, but shuddering as he did, a tremor through his torso and arms. Gavin moved back from him slightly, eyes washing over Nine’s half closed eyelids, his tense brow. He bumped their foreheads together, almost on instinct.

“Hey, it’s okay. I’m here, it’s okay.” 

Nine whispered a confirmation that Gavin didn’t catch, but he became too fixated on kissing both corners, the part of Nine’s mouth, once along the left side of his jaw, to care. Gavin pulled Nine into him, Nine’s tall body curling against his chest. He shushed him, hands drifting across his arms, his shoulders, carded in his hair. 

“Relax. You’re safe.” Gavin whispered against Nine’s temple. A weak whine escaped Nine, but the LED against Gavin’s chest dimmed, briefly lighting, dimmed again. He kissed his temple again and again, each weaker until it was just his face buried in Nine’s hair. 

His body gave one last shudder before he collapsed into sobs. Pulling out of his chest, pouring from his eyes and nose, wetting Nine’s shoulder, his own uniform, quieting him until there was nothing left to give. He rocked himself an Nine as he did, trying to take comfort in the motion.

He knew what he had to do. But he didn’t want to.

 

38315 5.14: i know you’re in town

38315 5.14: To what do I owe the pleasure?

38315 5.16: don’t think that i want to ask for your help

38315 5.17: i can’t fix him this time

38315 5.17: What did you do, Gavin?

38315 5.17: nines did it to himself

38315 5.17: Why do you call him that?

38315 5.17: why did you name her chloe?

38315 5.18: What do you need?

38315 5.18: please, eli

38315 5.19: Key still under the mat?

38315 5.19: door’s unlocked

38315 5.20: The lengths I go for family

38315 5.21: shut up you made him asshole

38315 5.21: Whatever. Give me ten.

 

Gavin set his phone down beside him, breath exiting his lungs all at once, as if he had been holding it in. Nine was still slumped in his arms, ten minutes later. Gavin was alight with anxiety, more so than usual, but the pulsating light on Nine’s temple was comforting. He propped himself and Nine better against the wall, brushing back the hair that fell into Nine’s face. His hands were tremulous--he needed a smoke. Maybe two. Nine wouldn’t like it, but he needed one. Something to finally settle his nerves. 

There wasn’t much he could do, not until Eli showed up. He hated asking his brother for help--it was a chance to show how he was smarter, better, richer. It wasn’t completely true--Eli had gotten a better start, a better chance to prove himself. Gavin didn’t want much in life. He knew where his alma mater was, what his skills were, who he loved. If he wanted fame he would’ve put his education on display. He didn’t, Elijah did.

Gavin rested his head against Nine’s, taking a moment to breathe, collect himself. A pang of anxiety hit him again, forcing his eyes shut. He heard the front door open, startling him out of his mood. Darling pattered into the room, meowing loudly as she did. The door shut, there was the sound of unintelligible voices until one called out.

“Gavin?”

“In here!” 

Gavin pulled himself up, still balancing Nine on against his shoulder, crouching, pulling him into the bedroom. Unable to support him on one arm, Gavin linked both arms around Nine’s chest from his back, dragging him into the room. The unconscious weight made him struggle, groaning as he finally rested him against the bed. He shut the bathroom door and shut out the light and collapsed against the bed frame. 

As he did, he saw Elijah’s face, taunt in concentration, peek into the doorway. Chloe followed behind him, dressed plainly. They both were, clothes almost mirroring what Nine was wearing. Elijah pushed his glasses up on top of his head as he entered and Gavin stood to meet him. 

“Chloe, Elijah,” Gavin said shortly, palms feeling slick and sickly.

“Gavin,” Elijah said his name in a sigh. He reached out, pulling Gavin to him. Gavin froze for a moment, but looped his arms around his brother’s shoulders. 

“Long time no see.” Gavin gave a breathy laugh, smile forming on his face. Elijah held him at arms length for a moment, before snapping to attention. Chloe had set out a large, shiny sheet of fabric, covering the carpeting. There was already a blue stain in the corner of the room, but Gavin really couldn’t afford any more. Together, Elijah and him lifted Nine onto the fabric. 

“Let’s see your man.” 

Elijah knelt down next to Nine, moving Nine’s face to one side. He frowned deeply, sat, and leaned over Nine’s resting form. He began to mumble to himself, hands flitting across the white skin, peeling back bits of blue blood, clear cellophane, white plastic. Chloe watched him intently from the side of the bed as he did, setting down the case she was holding. After a moment, she sat down next to it, snapping open the silver case. She pulled a laptop, a bundle of cords, and pushed the box in Elijah’s direction. Elijah took a silver sphere from the case and set it down beside him. 

“It isn’t the worst thing I’ve seen, Gavin.” He met Gavin’s tense gaze.

“What’s wrong?” 

Elijah moved his hands as he spoke. He waved them around the top of Nine’s head. 

“He broke the frontal plate here, which punctured some of the connecting occipital wires. The eye also disconnected from its socket,” He gently touched the top of Nine’s cheek and across his nose. “And the face structure here is shattered, which caused the thirium tubing to burst open. I want to assume he was trying to break into the parietal or frontal section of processing.”

“So that he’d stop hearing or feeling or sensing whatever he didn’t want to,” Gavin finished.

“Right,” Elijah agreed. “And the jaw probably popped out of place after the sixth or seventh blow, and the faceplate after eight. The broken jaw caused all the blood here.” He moved his hand to Nine’s neck and chin. 

Gavin sighed slowly, chest heavy and hard to expand.

“It’s not a fun fix. And it’s a hard one.”

“Explain it,” Gavin said.

“I’ll pop the eye out,” Elijah pushed open the lid and dug into the eye socket with his thumb and forefingers, sending Gavin thrashing back. With it came a string of wires, frayed and cut bluntly short. He passed the eye over to Chloe.

“It’s corneal receptor’s also been damaged. That’s why it’s completely dark. But after that’s replaced, I’ll take off the faceplate to reattach the wires and patch the thirium tubing. Then we’ll test it with replacement thirium, switch out the faceplates, pop in the jaw, and recalibrate the skin toning, hair pattern, and run a diagnostic.”

Elijah wiped his blue hands on his dark jeans. 

“Want to stay and see?”

“I’ll stay, but I wont see.”

“Fine, whatever.”

Elijah picked up the small metal sphere, pressing his thumb into the bottom. A lense like orb opened in the center, and as he set it down, it spread a holographic view across the entire room. After the shimmering light died down, the walls, floor, ceiling of the room had changed. Pristeen white and glass instead of his bedroom walls, all the furniture still present, but shelving, tools, junk tables resting about amongst them.

Gavin opened his mouth to speak, but Elijah cut him off.

“It’s still patent pending.”

“It’s your workshop, yeah?” Gavin glanced around haphazardly, eyes flicking around the outer corners, jittery.

“Yeah.” There was the faintest smile on Elijah’s face. “The best I could make it.”

Elijah pried the top faceplate off Nine with his fingers, and with it came the top of the cheekbone. It peeled in broken, square pieces, stuck together by a thin plastic sheet underneath. The blue stained wiring underneath was evident of the fracture thirium tube, now slowly oozing blood from the incision made in it. Elijah set the face plate beside him and pressed two fingers against the gash. 

“Chloe, could you pass Gavin the cables?”

Chloe typed furiously on the laptop balanced in her lap with one hand and passed the cords with the other. The other ends were already plugged into the laptop.

“The application is currently working itself out.” Chloe said abruptly. Elijah nodded in understanding, leaving Gavin clueless. He took the cords from Gavin’s hands, slotting them neatly against Nine’s neck. From Gavin’s position, he couldn’t see that the light had finally dimmed and ceased flashing, but he noticed the absence of the LED after a moment.

“Something’s missing.” he stated, shifting around nervously.

“We’ve put him into stasis--like, a hibernation mode, so he doesn’t wake up in a panic.”

“Oh,” Gavin replied softly. His stomach was full of a million stones, but he couldn’t seem to take his eyes off the jagged, milky skin across Nine’s face. Elijah motioned to Gavin to take hold of the tube to stop any more leaks, despite the flow of thirium being reduced to a low state. Gavin did. The blood, surprisingly cool to the touch, had the same consistency as thick milk, sticky to his fingers. No wonder it worked so well as an emollient. 

Elijah dug for several minutes into the projected cabinets. He drew out a kit, no bigger than a briefcase, that materialized as he set it down beside him on the floor. Next, permatex, and solvent. The solvent, he quickly mentioned, would act as a base, to dissolve the dried blood and clog the hole, while the patch dried and formed a hardened plastic. He worked quickly, but quietly, eyeglasses balanced at the end of his nose. Every so often, Gavin would watch him push them up, glace at Gavin’s tightly drawn face, and let them slide back down. His brother was horribly nearsighted, but he could critically focus on something inches away from his face with ease. Anything more than two feet was practically lost.

He set the permatex and solvent away from him as he sat back. Elijah’s face was a wrought mix of concentration and frustration. He noticed Chloe had moved from the computer and to the eye, toying with it with a pair of razor thin pliers. Gavin followed Eli’s gaze, watching her.

“How is the eye looking?” Elijah said. Chloe looked up for a moment only to meet Elijah’s gaze.

“Fine,” She said briefly. “The receptor is broken and it’s out of place. It should be a moment before it is able to be rebooted.”

“That’s good news,” Gavin spoke shakily, still tightly wound. Elijah gave him a sympathetic look.

“No worries at all.”

“None,” Gavin shook his head.

Elijah didn’t believe him, but took his brother’s word as truth for the moment. The case to Elijah’s right heald what would bond together to form a new frontal and zygomatic face plate, replacing the cracked, chipped, and torn one that he had peeled off previously. He set the case in his lap and opened it, eyebrows creased together in thought. The frontal plate would need to attach first, where the temporal stopped, before the zygomatic could be sealed at one end and attached to the upper jawbone. He sat back on his haunches for a moment, before moving the case off his lap.

“Hold his head still, will you Gavin?”

“Sure,” Gavin placed one hand at the top of Nine’s skull, and the other at the nape of his neck. 

Elijah framed Nine’s jaw and chin with his hands. In a sharp pushing movement, and with a popping noise, Nine’s jaw snapped back up into place. Feeling around the edge of his face to confirm that it was pushed back properly, Elijah nodded to himself. It would be easier to attach the second plate if the jaw was properly aligned, and with Nine’s temporarily under stasis, there would be less fuss doing everything at once than separately as he awoke.

Elijah stood--he had almost forgotten about the thirium. He moved around to the leftmost side of the room, the hologram glittering as he did. It was more magic than science in most cases, at least to Gavin, but he was too transfixed on Nine’s two-face esque expression to take particular notice. The cylinder came pre-sealed, injector tubing already wrapped in plastic around it. That made much of the job easier for Elijah. As he dug for his remaining flasks of thirium, Chloe was busy on the laptop. There was the hint of a frown on her face as she typed.

“What are you working on?” Gavin asked, peering over the side of the bed. Perhaps sensing the washed out tone in his voice, Chloe began to explain in a mellow, langid manner.

“Besides calibration for the eye, I’m trying to fight what I believe is a rootkit. The reason he began acting so strangely. Where he might of activated it was when he established his deviance from Amanda’s original code. Despite the deviance being so soon after launch, and the slack of the control because of Connor’s work, he was still susceptible to damage because of his prototype status as the original RK900 model.”

“Right.” Gavin worried the inside of his cheek.

“Since the payload of a rootkit can drop at any time, it only took one chance for her to plant it as a last resort to physically and electronically corrupt any files she had left over. She didn’t have any because she was deactivated too soon, but the rootkit was already in place as a safeguard, so it activated and waited the allotted time and attacked the frontal nodes instead--simulating what he thought might be there versus the virus itself just working through looking for data.”

“Your counter is working, thought?”

“Sort of, yes. It’s a very advanced rootkit virus. It’s as easily fought as a healthy human fights the pneumonia virus.”

Elijah turned back to the two, in his hand a cylinder of blue thirium. He shook the tube for several seconds as he paced back over. He passed the vial to Gavin, took hold of Nine’s left arm, and placed it across Nine’s chest. He pressed gently against the inside of his forearm, releasing a small panel that exposed a connection port. As Gavin unraveled the clear tubing for the thirium, he slotted the needled end into the semi-porous bottom of the tube, and the hollow, almost dropper shaped end into the slot of Nine’s arm. He held the thirium tube aloft, as it slowly began to feed new blood into Nine.

“The tubing seems to be holding for now, which means we can attach the eye, put in face plate, get that thirium tube balanced up so you don’t have to hold it, and wrap him up.” Elijah pressed his hands together. “You don’t happen to have any coffee brewing, do you?”

“Nines makes a killer espresso, but I can start some.” Gavin smiled to himself, and passed the tube over to his brother. He didn’t let his expression completely collapse until he made it to the kitchen, exhaustion washing over him in one blow. He propped himself up on his elbows, resting his chin in his hands, watching the coffee maker bubble and boil.

Even after two cups of coffee, Gavin slept.

It was nearly two in the morning when Gavin finally fell asleep on the floor next to Elijah, head resting near his knee. Elijah was curved over Nine’s head, fingers holding together a section of the pipe that had burst right after Gavin had fallen asleep. With his other hand, he dug to try and grasp any of the broken wires from the eye socket, stuffing them through the empty crevice. The frayed ends made difficult work of the process, as Elijah jammed his thumb and the wires together through the socket time and time again.

“Fuck me.” He sat back, letting the wires fall back into place. The fresh pool of thirium collected in his palm, dripping onto the sheet beneath Nine.

“Huh?” Gavin woke with a start, startled by his brother’s outburst. His expression was lost and confused as he looked around the room. His gaze finally settled on Elijah, where it cleared exponentially. 

“Oh, hey.” Gavin said softly, before he curled back up, head resting on his arm.

Elijah turned his gaze back to the tubing, reaching again for the sealant and adhesive. 

“We’re losing too much blood, damn it. It’s just pooling all here.”

The cylinder of thirium they had first begun to cycle through Nine had been disconnected as the seal on the previously fixed tubing split. But, there was only half a container of thirium left--not enough to start a third cycle with, unless Elijah scooped the leaking blood back into the sealed chamber. Of course none of the data codes for the higher level sealants had been stored in the projection sphere--only the basics Elijah new it could hold and print rapidly. Wiping the area clean of blue blood again, he applied pure solvent, letting it sit and dry, before double coating, applying a mix of the base and liquid plastic and fanning it to set with another layer of pure solvent. It covered a greater area and more pure base met the plastic. After at least a two hour drying period, he told himself, he would retest the blood circulation. 

“Chloe?” He called tiredly, after a sip of his coffee, now cold.

“Yes, Elijah?”

“How does the ‘kit look?”

Chloe audibly sighed. “Fine, but not finished.”

“Good, good,” he mumbled to himself. He bent back over, shoulders slouching forward, trying again at fishing the wires through the eye socket. Finally, one managed to punch through, and with a struggle, the rest of the bundle followed. Elijah cut the torn bits of wire from the bundle, twisting them together with the newly calibrated eye. The wires slid effortlessly back and the silvery, cold eye settled into the socket, almost clicking in place. Gently lifting the replacement faceplate, the thin sheen of super-bond glue sticking to his fingers as he positioned it over the fastening hooks on Nine’s face. It snapped into position and Elijah smoothed it flat with his fingers, pushing down the edges that still rode up. Taking the last few minutes to wipe away the rest of the blue blood, now dried and flakey, he sat back. He let his eyes fall shut.

 

“You can just pull the cord from his neck, he’s still under stasis.”

“I still hate it.”

“It won’t hurt him, Gavin.”

“Is the thirium running okay now?”

“Yes, most definitely.”

Elijah’s arm was tingly from the elbow up. He rolled over, feeling not soft sheets but carpeted flooring. He sat up with a start.

“Chloe, what the fu--”

“Good morning, Elijah. Will you assist us in moving Gavin’s partner?”

“Chloe please...” Gavin groaned.

Elijah scrubbed viciously at his eyes, blinking away sleep.

“What happened?” he asked, slurring his words. He looked over to Chloe and Gavin, just an arms length away from him. Gavin’s arms were wrapped around  Nine’s shoulders, and Chloe had both hands locked around Nine’s ankles. He shut his eyes for a moment, frowning.

“We require your help, Elijah.” Chloe repeated.

“Oh, um, sure.”

Gavin lifted one shoulder, Elijah the other, while Chloe lifted Nine’s legs. They were successful in setting him, rather ungracefully, onto the far left side of the bed. 

“Chloe,” Elijah said tiredly, almost breathless. “You could have picked him up yourself, you realize.”

“Definitely, but Gavin insisted.” She beamed at Gavin, pressing her hands together. Gavin shook his head, but his gaze fell only on Nine. He sighed, rubbing his face with the heels of his hands. The urge hit him again. He felt around in her pockets, feeling for the familiar Marlboro box. Empty, of course. It must’ve been in his jacket. 

Elijah was watching him with a curious intensity. As Gavin turned back to him, Chloe now packing things back into the bag they had brought, he motioned for Gavin to give him something.

“What?” Gavin frowned.

“Your arm, give me your arm.”

Gavin stuck it out reluctantly. 

“Why?”

Elijah pushed Gavin’s sleeve up his forearm, gripped just above his wrist, and pressed down firmly.

“Elijah, what the f...”

Elijah rolled his eyes, handing over a half opened blister pack of patches. 

“We both know you’ve got a habit. We’ve got a habit. Just try to stop before it kills you.”

Gavin scoffed, wriggling free of his brother’s clasp on his arm.

“Please, it’s not that bad.”

“Nine would like it,” Elijah tried. He gave a weak shrug, but Gavin nodded despite himself. He set the blister pack on the bedside table.

“They’re good for twenty four hours,” His brother continued, bending down to help Chloe fold the plastic mat. “Just one.”

“Got it.”

Gavin sat on the edge of the bed near Nine’s legs, hand resting on Nine’s ankle, just to know he was still there and still had a chance of awakening. With his face clear of damage and blood, he looked the same as he would in any stasis period, but Gavin felt as if he were fragile, even more fragile than Gavin himself. The breath he took caught in his throat and he coughed, sniffled in, a burning crawling up his throat.

“Gavin?” Elijah said. He heard him rise, Elijah’s hand fitting against the curve of his shoulder.

“You’re welcome to stay till he wakes up,” Gavin said, coughing hard once more. “I don’t mind it.”

“Gavin,” Elijah tried again. Gavin’s face shifted, contorting painfully, and the weight of Elijah’s hand on his shoulder pulled him in. The side of his face thudded against Elijah’s solar plexus, hiding himself there, arms hugged around his middle. Elijah instantly curled forward, the best that he could, feeling the stutter of Gavin’s breathing as his hands ran over his shoulders. 

“Jesus christ.” Gavin managed.

“It’s okay,” Elijah’s voice barely registered for Gavin, but he felt Gavin nod, squeezing him ever more. He felt as if Elijah let go of him he might turn into a thousand scattered pieces, but Elijah stayed. He clung to Gavin’s shoulders, a soothing rocking motion coming from both of them. They hadn’t comforted each other in a long while, maybe not since they moved away from home. Gavin didn’t hear Chloe sit beside him, but heard his brother say something softly to her, some sort of confirmation, felt the weight on the mattress shift, felt her place one hand against the middle of his back. He let the tension go from his shoulders, arms falling into his lap, breath coming deeper, less forced. 

“He’ll take about another few minutes to reboot. You can stay here with him, if you’d like,” Chloe said softly. “That is, if you don’t mind Elijah and I rummaging about in your living area.”

Gavin let out a wet laugh. 

“That’s fine.” 

Elijah clapped his shoulder as he untangled himself, squeezing it gently. 

“We’ll be in the other room.” He said.

“Alright,” Gavin rubbed his eyes, standing slowly as he did. “Oh--Elijah, Chloe...”

From where she was picking the remnants of their bagged supplies off the floor, Chloe turned her head, and Elijah raised his eyebrows in affirmation.

“Thank you. For everything.”

A wide, soft smile split Elijah’s face.

“Anything for the family I love.”

Gavin couldn’t help the grin that bubbled through him.

As Elijah left the room, Gavin sat back down net to Nine on the mattress. Adjacent to Nine’s hip, Gavin was able to see across Nine’s sleeping body--his hand in Gavin’s was cool to the touch, there was no rising-falling action of his stomach, and only the faintest sound of processes running showed that any form of consciousness. Gavin drew tiny circles against the back of Nine’s hand to occupy himself, mind still running too quick even as the nicotine blundered through his system.

“I just hope it works.” he said quietly. He couldn’t stop himself from running his free hand through Nine’s hair--the bald patches beginning to grow back dark tufts of hair--and down the side of his face, cradling Nine’s cheek in his palm. The LED flickered in and out just above his fingertips.

“You’ll be alright, Nines,” He whispered. All he could do was watch his sleeping face, warming Nine’s hands with his own. Moving back, bending down, he tucked himsef against Nine’s chest, head on his sternum, eyes closed in prayer. 

Elijah, shortly after reaching the couch, collapsed and fell asleep, one arm tucked under his head, one arm dangling off the couch cushions. The supplies they had taken with them was piled at the far end of the room, next to the kitchen counter. Chloe took the liberty of removing Elijah’s shoes before she sat in the plush chair beside the couch. As she sat, a gangly, spotted cat jumped gracefully up onto the armrest beside her. She wriggled her fingers and the cat brushed against them, testing its weight on her lap before turning a circle and sitting down. Neither her or Elijah had seen any cats other than the bright, fluffy tabby, but as she glanced around, she could see an orange smudge sleeping, hidden in the corner, and the curled tails of one dark and one mottled cat, out on the patio. She scratched at the sides of the spotted cat’s face, a smile playing on her own.

“Her name’s Fiji.”

She looked up toward the voice, finding Gavin, still sleep stricken, standing in the doorway. 

“Like the bottling company?”

A soft look encompassed him and she offered him the same smile. He ducked his head in response, moving into the room. 

“Yeah, like the water.”

He made his way to the corner as he saw the sleeping orange cat perk its head up tiredly. It let out a rolling chirp and stretched out its limbs. Gavin knelt only to scoop the cat up into his arms. It chirped again, but this time much quieter. 

“This is Darling, sometimes she sits on your shoulder.”

Which is what she scrambled to do, claws sticking into Gavin’s dark shirt in the process. She nuzzled against his unshaven cheek, pleased with her success.

“And out on the patio?” Chloe questioned. Olivine made another circle in her lap before lying down.

“The little black one, his name is Toast, and his friend Q. She’s mad ‘cause I named her Q-tip. And Toast loves Nines. I dunno why”

Chloe trailed her fingers across the spots on Fiji’s back. 

“I’m sure he gets that from his father.” She said, tone bordering on mischievous. Gavin only rolled his eyes in response, moving to sit next to the chair Chloe was in, on the floor. Darling bounded off Gavin’s shoulder and onto the top of the chair behind Chloe. They sat with their eyes on Fiji, as Darling traveled around Chloe and over to Elijah, lying across the top of the couch. Elijah didn’t move, breathing even and deep. 

“How do you deal with him?” Gavin asked her, after a beat. She hummed, seeming to remember back to early ‘38, back to Chloes upon Chloes.

“After the others left, since I was the first, I told him that if he ever tried some shit again that I would kill him.” She said calmly. “With my rights, he can’t put me in danger--though, I suppose there wasn’t much danger to begin with. Just foolishness.” The sigh she gave was something Gavin understood. Deep down, he knew Elijah cared about every android he had designed, but he was scared. Gavin’s initial fear came from replacement, where Elijah’s came from lack of control. It was better now.

Gavin leaned against the armchair, closing his eyes, not trusting himself to not fall asleep, but not being able to keep them open. He heard Chloe shift around in the chair, presumably resting herself, heard Olivine rumble in appreciation. He felt the dregs of sleep wash over him again, body heavy and dull.

A heavy cough, shuffling sounds, came from the doorway to Gavin’s bedroom.

“Gavin?”

Gavin’s eyes shot open and he almost smashed his head on the coffee table as he scrambled up. He froze, blood rushing to his head.

Nine stood, or rather, leaned against the doorway, barely able to prop himself up on it. His face was still pale, body folding forward. He looked around the room confused, eyes barely in focus and barely open. Gavin pitched forward, pulling Nine up, holding his shoulders, hand running over his cheeks. Nine’s eyes traveled over his face blankly.

“Gavin,” He said again, more sure of himself.

“Hey, Nines, baby, I’m here.” He wrapped one arm around Nine’s waist, propping him on his shoulders. “I’m here, come sit again, yeah?”

“Okay,” Nine replied quietly. He followed Gavin to the bedside, and as Gavin let him go, he pooled against him, falling against his chest, head against his neck. Gavin’s hands instantly came up to cradle the back of his head, stroking down his spine as soft as he could. Nine was cold to the touch, warming under Gavin’s hands. He kissed the top of Nine’s head, squeezing his eyes shut.

“Hey, hey, how are you feeling?”

“Dazed. Calibrating still.” Nine’s voice was muffled against his chest.

“Gavin?” Chloe’s voice reached him from the living space. She peered around the doorframe, Olivine in her arms, eyes curious and wide. She smiled as she saw Nine with Gavin and shuffled a little further into the room.

“Chloe and Elijah paid you a visit,” Gavin murmured into Nine’s hair. Nine glanced up over his shoulder, blinking owlishly at Chloe, who hoisted the cat a bit higher in her arms--and Olivine mewed in response. Though a smile played on his face, Nine tucked his head back against Gavin’s shoulder, shuddering slightly, eyes shut. Gavin didn’t understand quite how he was feeling--besides apprehension and confusion--so he let him, touched him gently, let him rest. It didn’t have to be on Gavin, but Nine made no movement away from him. He could see Nine’s LED swirl, red to yellow, yellow to blue, blue to red, calibrating.

“Gavin?” Nine mumbled.

“Hmm?”

“Can you help me to the floor? To charge?”

Gavin hummed again in agreement, with both arms still linked around him, stabled him as they sunk to the ground. Nine’s head lolled against the mattress, his eyes now clear and focused. He watched as Gavin pulled the charging cord that was coiled next to the bedside table. Nine took it from him, fitting it snuggly against the nape of his neck. Red LED, yellow, blue, rolling blue and yellow, consistent rolling blue. Chloe followed Olivine as she twisted out of the room.

Nine twiddled his fingers almost subconsciously. His head was still resting against the mattress, but his face seemed frustrated. Gavin’s eyes tracked his movements. Slipping his hand into Nine’s still palm, pulling the ring from off Nine’s finger. 

“Oh,” Nine said quietly. He balanced it between his first and second fingers and Gavin watched as it flickered in and out of view. Nine’s face seemed to relax, going out of focus.

“You’re just like him, aren’t you?”

“Like who?” Nine replied absently.

“Connor.”

“Close.” A soft look passed over his face--Gavin squeezed his hand.

“Brothers, eh?” Gavin glanced up at Nine’s face, a mixture of joy and anxiety rolling in his stomach. Nine squeezed Gavin’s hand in response, letting the ring roll into his palm before securing it snuggly back on his left hand. The ring itself meant very little--stainless steel, slightly white in hue--but Gavin had wanted to get him something, something with meaning, something  _ human _ . So he did. Everytime Nine had an uncertain--human--emotion, it was there.

Gavin moved so that he fit neatly next to Nine’s hip, fingers laced together, his head just resting in the juncture between clavicle and shoulder blade. It wasn’t good for Nine to move too much while charging, Gavin knew, so sitting with him was the best he could do. Quite frankly, he didn’t realize that he had begun to cry until one of Nine’s arms curled around him, smoothing soft circles against his shoulder. Gavin instinctively curled in on himself--this is, what, the third time he’d been babied through his fits? He wanted to feel angry, at himself, at this stupid RK900 unit trying to soothe him, but he was just scared, afraid of losing. His breath stuttered, hollow in his chest, little hiccups and gasps for air against Nine’s shoulder. 

“Fuck you,” His voice cracked, sounding wet and gurgly. “Fuck you, you stupid trash-900 piece of shit.”

“Gavin,” Nine soothed. Gavin squirmed, beating weakly at Nine’s hip and thigh with his arms, coughing out tiny, muffled sobs. Nine managed to pull Gavin close to his chest, both arms tucked around him protectively, forehead pressed against Gavin’s temple. Gavin still writhed, trying to free himself. 

“Fuck you, fuck Amanda, fuck Cyberlife. You fucking died, they killed you, I’m gonna fucking kill her, I swear to--”

“Gavin,  _ please _ , stop.”

For a moment, Gavin stilled, sniffling, breath coming in short, small heaves. The tension in Nine’s voice must of stilled him, as he slumped, completely boneless, against Nine’s chest. Nine buried his face in Gavin’s wonderful, god-awful hair, cheek against his scalp, hugging him close, sitting, waiting, breathing. 

“I should’ve stayed home.” Gavin hiccuped.

“You didn’t know.”

“I should’ve called you,” He pried, almost as if he were trying to beat himself up.

“You didn’t know,” Nine repeated.

“I should’ve said something. Some stupid gay shit. Or kissed you--I dunno.” He sniffled hard, cutting himself off, hands coming up to scrub at his eyes, wicking the tears from his face.

“Do it now,” Nine said simply.

“I--” Gavin’s head pitched against his collar bone. Did he think Nine didn’t want to see him? Nine pried him away from his chest, hands moving up to frame his shoulders, holding him upright as he turned his torso toward Nine.

“Gavin, hey, just look at me,” he said softly. Gavin shuffled to twist and face him properly, eyes wide and wet and  _ sad _ . He couldn’t help but hold Gavin’s face in his hands, fingers pressed against the back of his neck, and just hold him there, taking him in.

“What are you doin’, tincan?” Gavin let out a wet-sounding half-laugh. 

“Nothing, I just love you.”

Gavin rolled his eyes, trying to put back up his nonchalant facade.

“You’re stupid.”

“No,” Nine’s retorted playfully. “You’re stupid, meatsack.”

“Oh, just kiss me already,” Gavin grumbled. And Nine did, pulling him in close enough to brush their lips together, reining him in with a dozen tiny kisses, trying to force down a smile, before kissing him properly. One of Gavin’s hands settled comfortably against the nape of his neck and they took in close-mouthed kiss after kiss after kiss until Gavin forced himself to take a breath, their foreheads pressed together. Nine let his eyes fall shut, still cradling Gavin’s cheeks, as Gavin carded his fingers through Nine’s untidy hair. Presumably, Nine thought, it was to fix it, as Gavin hummed to himself, combing it back, pleased. But it still fell against his forehead in tufts, his fingers and lips fading out of a silvery white.

“Oh, fuck,” Gavin mumbled flatly, after a beat. Nine’s eyes blinked open.

“Hm?”

“You’re still wearing the same sweater as you were two nights ago.” He shuffled back, fidgeting with the sleeves of the sweatshirt still on Nine’s back. Blood had crusted around the collar and partly down the front, staining the fabric a light blue. Gavin made a twisted face.

“Ugh, that’s nasty. You gotta change.”

“You’re still wearing your uniform, Gavin,” Nine gestured to the long-sleeved shirt he was in. Gavin looked down, face pulled in disgust.

“We both gotta change.”

Gavin wriggled away from Nine, who made a short noise of protest, pushing off the floor with both hands in order to stand. He shuffled over to the small chest of drawers and pulled several open. He tossed Nine’s other pair of sweatpants and his own beaten pair of joggers in Nine’s general direction, and carried over two shirts. He dropped a well worn  _ Lafayette College _ hooded sweatshirt into Nine’s lap--Gavin rarely wore it, Nine knew, but ran his hands over it gently, a pang of admiration running through him. Gavin took the liberty of Nine’s absorption in the sweater to change. He helped Nine shimmy free of the  _ Cafe Singapore _ sweatshirt without tangling in any wires and pulled the faded red one over his shoulders. The feeling of fresh clothing brought a soothing relief Nine didn’t quite understand.

Gavin dropped back into Nine’s lap almost instantly, legs curling around his waist.

“You look exhausted.” he said. Nine shook his head.

“You look exhausted, too. You need to sleep.” 

Gavin reeled himself in, arms fitting under Nine’s, and tucked his head against the side of Nine’s neck. The rumble of a laugh echoed under Nine’s hands as he ran them down Gavin’s spine. As he dropped his head against his shoulder he placed a kiss on the top of his head. Nine let his eyes fall shut, sinking into hibernation, Gavin  _ properly  _ sleeping next to him.

 

Nine awoke to the sound of soft purring next to him. His head was resting back against the mattress and he felt the form Gavin still slumped against him, snoring softly. As he opened his eyes, he could see Gavin tucked against his shoulder, but as he turned, he saw a black smudge stretched out beside his head. Void blinked his wide-pupiled eyes back at him slowly, stretching one paw out to bop his forehead. He couldn’t force back the smile that crossed his face. 

“Hello,” he whispered and Toast meowed back at him. Toast wriggled close enough so that he could lick Nine’s forehead several times, then shake his head in disgust. Nine tried to move his right arm but found that it was heavy and unwilling to bend. Instead, Toast jumped down rather ungracefully and sat beside him, letting Nine scratch his cheek without moving too much. His internal clock told him it was past 2:20 am, now the following day and the little light that streamed in from the kitchen must of been from the television. He could see the colors change in the light, but no sound came from it. Gavin has slept for close to 15 hours at this point.

“How can you still be comfortable?” Nine murmured. His other hand was still resting on Gavin’s lower back and he patted it gently. Gavin made a sleepy sound, body tensing under Nine’s hand, before relaxing again. As much as Nine hated to disturb him, Gavin would be more than helpful in moving through the recalibration process.

“Gavin,” he tried, patting his back. “You have to wake up.”

“I am.”

Gavin peeled himself off Nine’s chest, blinking up at him with blurry eyes. He seemed awestruck for a moment, before rubbing viciously at his face, twisting himself around to pop and stretch the aching muscles in his back.

“You insisted on sleeping here,” Nine assured him, voice weaved with a smiling tone. Gavin frowned deeply, but made no move to deny that fact. After blinking the blear from his eyes, he crawled from Nine’s lap, standing with a small groan. He sighed deeply.

“Did you sleep well?”

“It was fine,” Nine moved to unplug himself from the charging cord, standing as he did. It pooled by his feet, and he shuffled forward, pitched, and held fast to Gavin, stabling himself. Gavin gripped at Nine’s upper arm, pushing him up to standing again. He blinked owlishly.

“You okay?” Gavin said.

“Calibration,” Nine clarified. His LED flicked from yellow and back to blue. “Can you help me to the living room? We can work from there.”

Gavin looped his arm around Nine’s waist, and Nine’s arm around his shoulders. Balancing on one another, they tottered into the living space, Gavin watching the floor for Darling and peering at Nine’s LED, and Nine watching his own feet shuffle across the floor. They stood together next to the couch, balancing on each other.

“What now?”

“I start walking.”

Despite the level of his voice, Nine’s hand was fisted in the fabric of Gavin’s sleeve. His eyes met the floor, settling on the tops of his toes, tottering, a visible tremor in his movements. With Gavin’s arm still anchored at his waist, he took a careful step forward, in line with the cushions of the couch, until the pace felt comfortable enough for Nine to have Gavin step back. Nine turned to face him, arms slightly arched away from him, maintaining the balance that he had.

Gavin could see the spin in his LED from where he stood and watched it for a moment, before it retained a solid color. 

“I’ll go towards you,” Nine said. He bent his knees slightly, swayed side to side, the weight shifting on his feet--either consciously or unconsciously, Gavin wasn’t sure. After testing his movement, Nine took a large step, wobbling, stood stock in place for a moment, arms still skewed to hold his position. 

Gavin held back a laugh--Nine looked like a bizarre caricature of his usual self, legs stiff, arms bent awkwardly at each side, face drawn in tight concentration.

Before he could, however, Nine regained his composure, took several normal steps. He finally reached Gavin and made a face as he did.

“What?” Gavin snorted, “Do I look funny?”

“No, not right now, I just feel... _ horrible _ .” The face came again, this time more pained than disgusted. “My limbs ache.”

“Probably from all the moving you’ve done after all that blood loss, dummy.” Gavin thumped his shoulder, smiling. “You’ll have to take a few days off, I suppose.”

Nine ducked his head, feigning off the contagious smile that lit up his face. Under all his teasing, he knew Gavin was extremely glad to have him back in one piece. He couldn’t imagine how much stress it had put him under. As Gavin moved past him to check on one of the cats that had wandered in from outside (presumably looking for a meal, considering the time), he made his way over, but kept back next to the kitchen counter. 

“I must’ve worried you,” Nine said, stuffing tremulous hands into his pants pockets. Gavin looked over at him as he turned, dish in hand.

“Well, no shit,” he scoffed. “I come home, my boyfriend’s fuckin’ covered in his own blood--” Nine winced, he knew it had been bad. “--of course I was worried.”

Nine leaned, his back against the countertop. “It was Amanda--a virus.” His words wobbled, barely registerable in the undertones of his voice. “She put it there and I couldn’t...deal with it.”

He heard the faucet come on behind him. Gavin set the full dish on the floor near Nine’s feet, with Darling darting up behind Gavin to investigate. His eyes were soft as he looked at Nine.

“I know,” he stated, quiet in his tone, “Chloe and Elijah told me. I know it’s not your fault. You didn’t mean to scare me.”

Nine averted his eyes--they felt wet and tired and cold. He blinked, swallowed with some difficulty. Gavin’s hand settled on his hip, his thumb against the curve of what would be the bone there. 

“It’s alright, Nines, please, look at me?” He put his other hand against Nine’s cheek, just enough, letting Nine lean into it, fingers brushing against his scalp. When Nine finally met his eye, his expression had cleared, but the aprehension behind it lingered.

“Sorry,” Nine mumbled.

“Hey, no worries, I can handle your emotions. And I can handle you, and anything you throw at me.” He squeezed Nine’s hip. “You’re okay, I’m okay.”

Nine nodded, a shallow bob of his head. “Yeah,” he echoed. 

Gavin stood on his toes, till he was level with Nine’s height, balancing his weight on Nine’s hip and torso.

“Can I kiss you?” Gavin’s eyes flitted across his face, watching the quirk of a smile appear.

“Yeah,” 

Gavin was able to breathe in just enough before Nine pulled him in, faces smushing together. He pushed the curves of their lips together as he tilted his head, curling reflexively into Nine. He gripped at his scalp, holding his head still, barely unable to pull back to exhale before he was reeled in. Nine missed, mouthing more at his chin than bottom lip. Gavin cracked, a smile splitting his face. He kissed Nine once more, wholly, before pulling away, pulling Nine’s head down to kiss his forehead.

“I remember when you were shit at that,” Gavin exhaled all at once, standing flat-footed. He still combed his fingers through Nine’s hair, his stomach twisting. 

“We’re still both shit,” Nine retorted, and tugged Gavin into his arms before he could protest. Head pressed against Nine’s collarbone, Nine’s cheek against his hair, they stood together, breathing in sync. Nine shut his eyes, allowing himself to bask in Gavin’s touch.

He knew he would upload this memory. Everything else was important, _ but this moment? _ he thought to himself, _ this one is one that rivals all the flowers in the botanical garden. _

 

**Author's Note:**

> shameless [promotion](https://www.twitter.com/s0fthope)!  
> want to request your own cool stories? i'm a college kid with free time right now, and i love requests! there might be a kofi thing eventually, but for now, just [hmu](https://goo.gl/forms/tRLU2YQUx3QIhkUv1)  
> and as always, thanks ~


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